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Thursday, 12 July 2007 |
Love Happiness Life Attitudes.
LOVE, THE HISTORICAL PRODUCT OF HUMAN EVOLUTION
The above analysis of the synthesizing power of love over the inner life was not made, and indeed could not be made, without some visible model.
Where then in nature today does a first sketch, a first approach to the total act of which we were apparently dreaming exist? Nowhere more clearly, I think, than in the act of Christian love as it can be performed by a modern believer for whom the creation has come to be expressed in terms of evolution. In such a man's eyes, the world's history bears the form of a vast cosmogenesis, in the course of which all the threads of reality converge without fusing in a Christ who is at the same time personal and uni versal. Strictly and unmetaphorically, the Christian who understands both the essence of his creed and nature's linkages in time and space, finds himself in the fortunate position of being, by all his various activities and in union with the crowd of his fellows, capable of surrendering to a unique act of commu nion. Whether he lives or dies, by his life and by his death, he in some sense completes his God, and is at the same time mastered by him. In short, compa rable in every way to the Omega point which our theory led us to foresee, Christ (provided he reveals himself in the full realism of his incarnation) tends to produce exactly the spiritual totalization that we expected.
In itself the existence, even in detachment, of a state of consciousness endowed with such riches would bring, if fully established, a substantial verifi cation of the views that we have set out on the ultimate nature of human energy. But it is possible to push the demonstration very much further by observing that the appearance in man of the love of God, understood in the fullness that we give it here, is not a simple sporadic accident, but appears as the regular product of a long evolution.
From Human Energy, translated by J. M. Cohen,
128-130, 144-155
We are accustomed to consider (and with what a refinement of analysis!) Only the sentimental face of love, the joy and miseries it causes us. It is in its natural dynamism and its evolutionary significance that I shall be dealing with it here, with a view to determining the ultimate phases of the phenome non of man.
Considered in its full biological reality, love that is to say, the affinity of being with being is not peculiar to man. It is a general property of all life and as such it embraces, in its varieties and degrees, all the forms successively adopted by organized matter. In the mammals, so close to ourselves, it is easily recognized in its different modalities: sexual passion, parental instinct, social solidarity, and so forth. Farther off, that is to say lower down on the tree of life, analogies are more obscure until they become so faint as to be imperceptible. But this is the place to repeat what I said earlier when we were discussing the "within of things." If there were no real internal propensity to unite, even at a prodigiously rudimentary level indeed in the molecule itself it would be physically impossible for love to appear higher up, with us, in "hominized" form. By rights, to be certain of its presence in ourselves, we should assume its presence, at least in an inchoate form, in everything that is. And in fact if we look around us at the confluent ascent of consciousness, we see it is not lacking anywhere. Plato felt this and has immortalized the idea in his Dialogues. Later, with thinkers like Nicolas of Cusa, medieval philos ophy returned technically to the same notion. Driven by the forces of love, the fragments of the world seek each other so that the world may come to being. This is no metaphor; and it is much more than poetry. Whether as a force or a curvature, the universal gravity of bodies, so striking to us, is merely the reverse or shadow of that which really moves nature. To perceive cosmic energy "at the fount" we must, if there is a within of things, go down into the internal or radial zone of spiritual attractions.
Love in all its subtleties is nothing more, and nothing less, than the more or less direct trace marked on the heart of the element by the psychical convergence of the universe upon itself.
This, if I am not mistaken, is the ray of light which will help us to see more clearly around us.
We are distressed and pained when we see modern attempts at human collectivization ending up, contrary to our expectations and theoretical predic tions, in a lowering and an enslavement of conscious nesses. But so far how have we gone about the busi ness of unification? A material situation to be defended; a new industrial field to be opened up, better conditions for a social class or less favored na tions those are the only and very mediocre grounds on which we have so far tried to get to gether. There is no cause to be surprised if, in the footsteps of animal societies, we become mech anized in the very play of association. Even in the supremely intellectual activity of science (at any rate as long as it remains purely speculative and abstract) the impact of our souls only operates obliquely and indirectly. Contact is still superficial, involving the danger of yet another servitude. Love alone is capa ble of uniting living beings in such a way as to com plete and fulfill them, for it alone takes them and joins them by what is deepest in themselves. This is a fact of daily experience. At what moment do lovers come into the most complete possession of them selves if not when they say they are lost in each other? In truth, does not love every instant achieve all around us, in the couple or the team, the magic feat, the feat reputed to be contradictory, of "per sonalizing" by totalizing? And if that is what it can achieve daily on a small scale, why should it not repeat this one day on worldwide dimensions?
Mankind, the spirit of the earth, the synthesis of individuals and peoples, the paradoxical concilia tion of the element with the whole, and of unity with multitude all these are called Utopian and yet they are biologically necessary. And for them to be incarnated in the world all we may well need is to imagine our power of loving developing until it embraces the total of men and of the earth.
It may be said that this is the precise point at which we are invoking the impossible. Man's capac ity, it may seem, is confined to giving his affection to one human being or to very few. Beyond that radius the heart does not carry, and there is only room for cold justice and cold reason. To love all and everyone is a contradictory and false gesture that only leads in the end to loving no one.
To that I would answer that if, as you claim, a universal love is impossible, how can we account for that irresistible instinct in our hearts which leads us towards unity whenever and in whatever direction our passions are stirred? A sense of the universe, a sense of the all, the nostalgia which seizes us when confronted by nature, beauty, music these seem to be an expectation and awareness of a Great Pres ence. The "mystics" and their commentators apart, how has psychology been able so consistently to ignore this fundamental vibration whose ring can be heard by every practiced ear at the basis, or rather at the summit, of every great emotion? Reso nance to the All the keynote of pure poetry and pure religion. Once again: what does this phenome non, which is born with thought and grows with it, reveal if not a deep accord between two realities which seek each other; the severed particle which trembles at the approach of "the rest"?
We are often inclined to think that we have ex hausted the various natural forms of love with a man's love for his wife, his children, his friends and to a certain extent for his country. Yet precisely the most fundamental form of passion is missing from this list, the one which, under the pressure of an involuting universe, precipitates the elements one upon the other in the Whole cosmic affinity and hence cosmic sense. A universal love is not only psychologically possible; it is the only complete and final way in which we are able to love.
But, with this point made, how are we to explain the appearance all around us of mounting repulsion and hatred? If such a strong potentiality is besieging us from within and urging us to union, what is it waiting for to pass from potentiality to action? Just this, no doubt: that we should overcome the "antipersonalist" complex which paralyzes us, and make up our minds to accept the possibility, indeed the reality, of some source of love and object of love at the summit of the world above our heads. So long as it absorbs or appears to absorb the person, collec tivity kills the love that is trying to come to birth. As such collectivity is essentially unlovable. That is where philanthropic systems break down. Common sense is right. It is impossible to give oneself to an anonymous number. But if the universe ahead of us assumes a face and a heart, and so to speak per sonifies itself, then in the atmosphere created by this focus the elemental attraction will immediately blossom. Then, no doubt, under the heightened pressure of an infolding world, the formidable ener gies of attraction, still dormant between human molecules, will burst forth.
The discoveries of the last hundred years, with their unitary perspectives, have brought a new and decisive impetus to our sense of the world, to our sense of the earth, and to our human sense. Hence the rise of modern pantheism. But this impetus will only end by plunging us back into supermatter un less it leads us towards someone.
For the failure that threatens us to be turned into success, for the concurrence of human monads to come about, it is necessary and sufficient for us that we should extend our science to its farthest limits and recogni2e and accept (as being necessary to close and balance space-time) not only some vague future existence, but also, as I must now stress, the radiation as a present reality of that mysterious center of our centers which I have called Omega.
From The Phenomenon of Man, translated by Bernard Wall,
264-268
'Reflections on Happiness
In the world of mechanized matter, all bodies obey the laws of a universal gravitation; similarly, in the world of vitalized matter, all organized beings, even the very lowest, steer themselves and progress to wards that quarter in which the greatest measure of well-being is to be found.
One might well imagine, then, that a speaker could hardly choose an easier subject than happi ness. He is a living being addressing other living beings, and he might well be pardoned for believ ing that his audience contains none but such as are already in agreement with him and are familiar with his ideas.
In practice, however, the task I have set myself today turns out to be much nicer and more complex.
Like all other animate beings, man, it is true, has an essential craving for happiness. In man, however, this fundamental demand assumes a new and com plicated form for he is not simply a living being with greater sensibility and greater vibratory power than other living beings. By virtue of his "hominization" he has become a reflective and critical living being and his gift of reflection brings with it two other formidable properties, the power to perceive what may be possible, and the power to foresee the future. The emergence of this dual power is suffi cient to disturb and confuse the hitherto serene and consistent ascent of life. Perception of the possible, and awareness of the future when these two com bine, they not only open up for us an inexhaustible store of hopes and fears, but they also allow those hopes and fears to range far afield in every direc tion. Where the animal seems to find no difficulties to obstruct its infallible progress towards what will bring it satisfaction, man, on the other hand, cannot take a single step in any direction without meeting a problem for which, ever since he became man, he has constantly and unsuccessfully been trying to find a final and universal solution.
"De vita beata," in the ancient phrase on the happy life: what, in fact, is happiness?
For centuries this has been the subject of endless books, investigations, individual and collective ex periments, one after another; and, sad to relate, there has been complete failure to reach unanimity. For many of us, in the end, the only practical conclusion to be drawn from the whole discussion is that it is useless to continue the search. Either the prob lem is insoluble there is no true happiness in this world or there can be only an infinite number of particular solutions: the problem itself defies solu tion. Being happy is a matter of personal taste. You, for your part, like wine and good living. I prefer cars, poetry, or helping others. "Liking is as unac countable as luck/' You must often, I am sure, have heard that sort of remark, and it may well be that you are a little inclined to agree.
What I want to do this evening is to confront fairly and squarely this relativist (and basically pes simist) skepticism shared by so many of our con temporaries, by showing you that, even for man, the general direction in which happiness lies is by no means so ill-defined as it is taken to be: pro vided always that we confine our inquiry to the search for those joys which are essential and, in so doing, take as our basis what we are taught by sci ence and biology.
I cannot, unfortunately, give you happiness, but I do hope that I may be able at least to help you to find it.
What I have to say falls into two parts. In the first, which will be primarily theoretical, we shall try together to define the best route leading to human happiness.
In the second part, which will serve as a conclusion, we shall consider how we must adapt our indi vidual lives to these general axes which run towards happiness.
The Theoretical Axes of Happiness
A. THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM: THREE DIFFERENT ATTITUDES TO LIFE
If we are to understand more clearly how the prob lem of happiness presents itself to us, and why we find ourselves at a loss when we meet it, it is essen tial to start by taking a comprehensive view of the whole position. By this I mean that we must distin guish three fundamental initial attitudes to life adopted by men as a matter of fad.
Here an analogy may well be a useful guide.
Let us imagine a party of tourists who have set out to climb a difficult peak, and let us take a look at them some hours after they have started. By this time we may suppose the party to be divided into three sorts of elements.
Some are regretting having left the inn. The fa tigue and risks involved seem out of all proportion to the value of a successful climb. They decide to turn back.
Others are not sorry that they set out. The sun is shining, and there is a beautiful view. But what is the point of climbing any higher? Surely it is better to enjoy the mountain from here, in the open meadow or deep in the wood. And so they stretch out on the grass, or explore the neighborhood until it is time for a picnic meal.
And lastly there are the others, the real mountai neers, who keep their eyes fixed on the peaks they have sworn to climb.
The tired the hedonists the enthusiasts.
Three types of men and, deep within our own selves, we hold the germ of all three. And, what is more, it is into these three types that the mankind in which we live and move has always been divided.
I. FIRST, THE TIRED (OR THE PESSIMISTS)
For this first category of men, existence is a mis take or a failure. We do not fit in and so the best thing we can do is, as gracefully as possible, to retire from the game. If this attitude is carried to its ex treme, and expressed in terms of a learned doctrinal system, it leads in the end to the wisdom of the Hindus, according to which the universe s an illu sion and a prison or to a pessimism such as Scho penhauer's. But, in a milder and commoner form, the same attitude emerges and can be recognized in any number of practical decisions that are only too familiar to you. "What is the good of trying to find the answer? Why not leave the savages to their savagery and the ignorant to their ignorance? What is the point of science? What is the point of the machine? Is it not better to lie down than to stand up? Better to be dead than asleep in bed?" And all this amounts to saying, at least by implication, that it is better to be less than to be more and that best of all would be not to be at all.
2. SECOND, THE HEDONISTS (OR PLEASURE-SEEKERS)
For men of this second type, to be is certainly better than not to be. But we must be careful to note that in this case "to be" has a special meaning. For the followers of this school, to be, or to live, does not mean to act, but simply to take your fill of this present moment. To enjoy each moment and each thing, husbanding it jealously so that nothing of it be allowed to be lost and above all with no thought of shifting one's ground that is what they mean by wisdom. When we have had enough, then we can lie back on the grass, or stretch our legs, or look at the view from another spot. And mean while, what is more, we shall not rule out the possi bility of turning back downhill. We refuse, however, to risk anything for the sake of or on the chance of the future unless, in an overrefinement of sensibility, danger incurred for its own sake goes to our heads, whether it be in order to enjoy the thrill of taking a chance or to feel the shuddering grip of fear.
This is our own version, in an oversimplified form, of the old pagan hedonism found in the school of Epicurus. In literary circles such has re cently been the tendency, at any rate, of a Paul Morand or a Montherlant or (and here it is far more subtle) of a Gide (the Gide of Fruits of the Earth), whose ideal of life is to drink without ever quenching (rather, indeed, in such a way as to in crease) one's thirst and this with no idea of re storing one's vigor, but simply from a desire to drain, ever more avidly, each new source.
3. FINALLY, THE ENTHUSIASTS
By these I mean those for whom living is an ascent and a discovery. To men in this third cate gory, not only is it better to be than not to be, but they are convinced that it is always possible and the possibility has a unique value to attain a fuller measure of being. For these conquerors, enamored of the adventurous, being is inexhaustible not in Gide's way, like a precious stone with innumerable
facets which one can never tire of turning round and round but like a focus of warmth and light to which one can always draw closer. We may laugh at such men and say that they are ingenuous, or we may find them tiresome; but at the same time it is they who have made us what we are, and it is from them that tomorrow's earth is going to emerge.
Pessimism and return to the past; enjoyment of the present moment; drive towards the future. There, as I was saying, we have three fundamental attitudes to life. Inevitably, therefore, we find our selves back at the very heart of our subject: a con frontation between three contrasting forms of hap piness.
1. First the Happiness of Tranquillity
No worry, no risk, no effort. Let us cut down our contacts, let us restrict our needs, let us dim our lights, toughen our protective skin, withdraw into our shell. The happy man is the man who attains a minimum of thought, feeling, and desire.
2. Second the Happiness of Pleasure
Static pleasure or, better still, pleasure that is constantly renewed. The goal of life is not to act and create, but to make use of opportunities. And this again means less effort, or no more effort than is needed to reach out for a clean glass or a fresh drink. Lie back and relax as much as possible, like a leaf drinking in the rays of the sun shift your position constantly so that you may feel more fully: that is the recipe for happiness. The happy man is the man who can savor to the highest degree the moment he holds in his hands.
3. Finally the Happiness of Growth
From this third point of view, happiness has no existence nor value in itself, as an object which we can pursue and attain as such. It is no more than the sign, the effect, the reward (we might say) of appro priately directed action: a by-product, as Aldous Huxley says somewhere, of effort. Modern hedo nism is wrong, accordingly, in suggesting that some sort of renewal of ourselves, no matter what form it takes, is all that is needed for happiness. Some thing more is required, for no change brings happi ness unless the way in which it is effected involves an ascent. The happy man is therefore the man who, without any direct search for happiness, inevitably finds joy as an added bonus in the act of forging ahead and attaining the fullness and finality of his own self.
Happiness of tranquillity, happiness of pleasure, and happiness of development: we have only to look around us to see that at the level of man it is between these three lines of progress that life hesi tates and its current is divided.
Is it true, as we are so often told, that our choice is determined only by the dictates of individual taste and temperament?
Or is the contrary true, that somewhere we can find a reason, indisputable because objective, for deciding that one of these three roads is absolutely the best, and is therefore the only road which can lead us to real happiness?
B. THE ANSWER GIVEN BY THE FACTS
I. GENERAL SOLUTION: FULLER CONSCIOUSNESS AS THE GOAL
For my part, I am absolutely convinced that such a criterion, indisputable and objective, does exist and that it is not mysterious and hidden away but lies open for all to see. I hold, too, that in order to see it all we have to do is to look around and exam ine nature in the light of the most recent achieve ments of physics and biology in the light, that is, of our new ideas about the great phenomenon of evolution.
The time has come, as you must know, when nobody any longer retains any serious doubts about this: the universe is not "ontologically" fixed: in the very depths of its entire mass it has from the begin ning of time been moving in two great opposing currents. One of these carries matter towards states of extreme disintegration; the other leads to the building up of organic units, the higher types of which are of astronomical complexity and form what we call the "living world/'
That being so, let us consider the second of these two currents, the current of life, to which we be long. For a century or more, scientists, while admit ting the reality of a biological evolution, have been debating whether the movement in which we are caught up is no more than a sort of vortex, revolv ing in a closed circle; or whether it corresponds to a clearly defined drift, which carries the animate portion of the world towards some specific higher state. There is today almost unanimous agreement that it is the second of these hypotheses which would appear undoubtedly to correspond to reality. Life does not develop complexity without laws, sim ply by chance. Whether we consider it as a whole or in detail, by examining organic beings, it pro gresses methodically and irreversibly towards ever higher states of consciousness. Thus the final, and quite recent, appearance of man on the earth is only the logical and consistent result of a process whose first stages were already initiated at the very origins of our planet.
Historically, life (which means in fact the uni verse itself, considered in its most active portion) is a rise of consciousness. How this proposition directly affects our interior attitudes and ways of behavior must, I suggest, be immediately apparent.
We talk endlessly, as I was saying a moment ago, about what is the best attitude to adopt when we are confronted by our own lives. Yet, when we talk in this way, are we not like a passenger in the Paris to Marseilles express who is still wondering whether he ought to be traveling north or south? We go on debating the point but to what purpose, since the decision has already been taken without reference to ourselves, and here we are on board the train? For more than four hundred million years on this earth of ours (or it would be more correct to say, since the beginning of time, in the universe), the vast mass of beings of which we form a part has been tenaciously and tirelessly climbing towards a fuller measure of freedom, of sensibility, of inner vision. And are we still wondering whither we should be bound?
The truth is that the shadow of the false problems vanishes in the light of the great cosmic laws. Unless we are to be guilty of a physical contradiction (un less, that is, we deny everything that we are and everything that has made us what we are) we are all obliged, each of us on his own account, to accept the primordial choice which is built into the world of which we are the reflective elements. If we with draw in order to diminish our being, and if we stand still to enjoy what we have, in each case we find that the attempt to run counter to the universal stream is illogical and impossible.
The road to the left, then, and the road to the right are both closed: the only way out is straight ahead.
Scientifically and objectively, only one answer can be made to the demands of life: the advance of progress.
In consequence, and again scientifically and ob jectively, the only true happiness is the happiness we have described as the happiness of growth and movement.
Do we want to be happy, as the world is happy, and with the world? Then we must let the tired and the pessimists lag behind. We must let the hedonists take their homely ease, lounging on the grassy slope, while we ourselves boldly join the group of those who are ready to dare the climb to the top most peak. Press on!
Even so, to have chosen the climb is not enough.
We have still to make sure of the right path. To get up on our feet ready for the start is well enough. But, if we are to have a successful and enjoyable climb, which is the best route?
Here again, if we are to be sure of our ground, we must see how nature proceeds we must learn from the sciences of life.
2. DETAILED SOLUTION: THE THREE PHASES OF PERSONALIZATION
As I said earlier, life in the world continually rises towards greater consciousness, proportionate to greater complexity as though the increasing com plexity of organisms had the effect of deepening the center of their being.
Let us consider, then, how this advance towards the highest unity actually works out in detail; and, for the sake of clarity and simplicity, let us confine ourselves to the case of man man, who is physi cally the highest of all living beings and the one best known to us.
When we examine the process of our inner unification, that is to say, of our personalization, we can distinguish three allied and successive stages, or steps, or movements. If man is to be fully himself
and fully living, he must ( i ) be centered upon him self; (2) be " de-centered" upon "the other"; (3) be super-centered upon a being greater than himself.
We must define and explain in turn these three forward movements, with which (since happiness, we have decided, is an effect of growth) three forms of attaining happiness must correspond.
I . First, centration. Not only physically, but intel lectually and morally too, man is man only if he cultivates himself and that does not mean simply up to the age of twenty ... If we are to be fully ourselves we must therefore work all our lives at our organic development, by which I mean that we must constantly introduce more order and more unity into our ideas, our feelings and our behavior. In this lies the whole program of action, and the whole value and meaning (all the hard work, too!) Of our interior life, with its inevitable drive towards things that are ever-increasingly spiritual and ele vated. During this first phase each one of us has to take up again and repeat, working on his own ac count, the general labor of life. Being is in the first place making and finding one's own self.
2. Second, decentration. An elementary tempta tion or illusion lies in wait for the reflective center which each one of us nurses deep inside him. It is present from the very birth of that center; and it consists in fancying that in order to grow greater each of us should withdraw into the isolation of his own self, and egoistically pursue in himself alone the work, peculiar to him, of his own fulfillment, that we must cut ourselves off from others, or trans late everything into terms of ourselves. However, there is not just one single man on the earth. That there are, on the contrary, and necessarily must be, myriads and myriads at the same time is only too obvious. And yet, when we look at that fact in the general context of physics, it takes on a cardinal importance for it means, quite simply, this: that, however individualized by nature thinking beings may be, each man still represents no more than an atom, or (if you prefer the phrase) a very large molecule; in common with all the other similar molecules, he forms a definite corpuscular system from which he cannot escape. Physically and biolog ically man, like everything else that exists in nature, is essentially plural. He is correctly described as a "mass-phenomenon." This means that, broadly speaking, we cannot reach our own ultimate with out emerging from ourselves by uniting ourselves with others, in such a way as to develop through this union an added measure of consciousness a process which conforms to the great law of complexity . Hence the insistence, the deep surge, of love, which, in all its forms, drives us to associate our individual center with other chosen and specially favored centers: love, whose essential function and charm are that it completes us.
3. Finally, super-centration. Although this is less obvious, it is absolutely necessary to understand it.
If we are to be fully ourselves, as I was saying, we find that we are obliged to enlarge the base on which our being rests; in other words, we have to add to ourselves something of "the Other/' Once a small number of centers of affection have been initiated (some special circumstances determining their choice), this expansive movement knows no check. Imperceptibly, and by degrees, it draws us into circles of ever-increasing radius. This is particu larly noticeable in the world of today. From the very beginning, no doubt, man has been conscious of belonging to one single great mankind. It is only, however, for our modern generations that this in distinct social sense is beginning to take on its full and real meaning. Throughout the last ten mil lennia (which is the period that has brought the sudden speeding-up of civilization) men have sur rendered themselves, with but little reflection, to the multiple forces (more profound than any war) that were gradually bringing them into closer con tact with one another. But now our eyes are open ing, and we are beginning to see two things. The first is that the closed surface of the earth is a constricting and inelastic mould, within which, under the pressure of an ever-increasing population and the tightening of economic links, we human beings are already forming but one single body. And the second thing is that through the gradual buildup within that body of a uniform and universal system of industry and science our thoughts are tending more and more to function like the cells of one and the same brain. This must inevitably mean that as the transformation follows its natural line of prog ress we can foresee the time when men will understand what it is, animated by one single heart, to be united together in wanting, hoping for, and loving the same things at the same time.
The mankind of tomorrow is emerging from the mists of the future, and we can actually see it taking shape: a "super-mankind," much more conscious, much more powerful, and much more unanimous than our own. And at the same time (a point to which I shall return) we can detect an underlying but deeply rooted feeling that if we are to reach the ultimate of our own selves, we must do more than link our own being with a handful of other beings selected from the thousands that surround us: we must form one whole with all simultaneously.
We can draw but one conclusion from this two fold phenomenon which operates both outside ourselves and inside ourselves: that what life ultimately calls upon us to do in order that we may be, is to incorporate ourselves into, and to subordinate our selves to, an organic totality of which, cosmically speaking, we are no more than conscious particles. Awaiting us is a center of a higher order and al ready we can distinguish it not simply beside us, but beyond and above us.
We must, then, do more than develop our own selves more than give ourselves to another who is our equal we must surrender and attach our lives to one who is greater than ourselves.
In other words: First, be. Second, love. Finally, worship.
Such are the natural phases of our personalization.
These, you must understand, are three linked steps in life's upward progress; and they are in con sequence three superimposed stages of happiness if, as we have agreed, happiness is indissolubly as sociated with the deliberate act of climbing.
The happiness of growing greater of loving of worshipping.
Taking as our starting-point the laws of life, this, to put it in a nutshell, is the triple beatitude which is theoretically foreseeable.
Now what is the verdict of experience on this point. Let us for a moment go directly to the facts, and use them to check the accuracy of our deduc tions.
First, there is the happiness of that deep-seated growth in one's own self-growth in capabilities, in sensibility, in self-possession. Then, too, there is the happiness of union with one another, effected be tween bodies and souls that are made to complete one another and come together as one.
I have little need to emphasize the purity and intensity of these two first forms of joy. Everybody is in basic agreement on that point.
But what shall we say about the happiness of sink ing and losing self in the future, in one greater than ourselves? ... Is not this pure theorizing or dream ing? To find joy in what is out of scale with us, in what we can as yet neither touch nor see. Apart from a few visionaries, is there anyone in the positivist and materialist world we are forced to live in who can concern himself with such an idea?
Who, indeed?
And yet, consider for a moment what is happening around us.
Some months ago, at a similar meeting, I was telling you about the two Curies the husband and wife who found happiness in embarking on a venture, the discovery of radium, in which they realized that to lose their life was to gain it. Just think, then: how many other men (in a more modest way, maybe, and in different forms and circumstances), yesterday and today, have been possessed, or are still possessed, even to the point of death, by the demon of research? Try to count them.
In the Arctic and Antarctic: Nansen, Andree, Shackleton, Charcot, and any number of others.
The men of the great peaks: the climbers of Everest.
The laboratory workers who ran such risks: killed by rays or by the substances they handled victims of a self-injected disease.
Add to these the legion of aviators who con quered the air.
And those, too, who shared man's conquest of man: all who risked, or indeed gave, their lives for an idea.*
Make a rough count, and when you have done so, take the writings and letters left by these men (such of them as left any), from the most noteworthy of them (the everyday names) to the most humble (those whose names are not even known) the air mail pilots who twenty-five years ago were pioneers "You know chat my life is an oblation, joyfully and con scientiously offered, with no selfish hope of reward, to the Power which is higher than life" (Rathenau).
The airroute across America for human thoughts and loves, and paid for it, one after another, with their lives. What do you find when you read what they confided to paper? You find joy, a joy that is both higher and deeper a joy full of power: the explosive joy of a life that has at last found a bound less area in which to expand.
Joy, I repeat, in that which knows no bounds.
What generally saps and poisons our happiness is that we feel that we shall so soon exhaust and reach the end of whatever it is that attracts us: we know the pain of separation, of loss by attrition the agony of seeing time fly past, the terror of knowing how fragile are the good things we hold, the disap pointment of coming so soon to the end of what we are and of what we love.
But when a man has found, in an ideal or a cause, the secret of collaboration and self-identification (whether it be close or distant) with the universe as it advances, then all those dark shadows disappear. The joy of worshipping so spreads over the joy of being and the joy of loving as to allow them to expand and grow firmer (Curie, for example, and Termier were admirable friends, fathers, and hus bands): it does not lessen or destroy the earlier joys, and it holds and brings with it, in its fullness, a wonderful peace. Its source of nourishment is inex haustible, because it gradually becomes one with the very consummation of the world in which we move; by the same token, moreover, it is safe from every threat of death and decay. Finally, it is, in one way or another, constantly within our reach, since the best way we have of reaching it is simply, each one of us in his own place, to do what we are able to do as well as we can.
The joy of the element that has become conscious of the whole which it serves and in which it finds fulfillment the joy that the reflective atom draws from awareness of its function and completion within the universe which contains it this, both logically and factually, is the highest and most pro gressive form of happiness I can put before you and hope that you may attain.
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